I am the principal windsurfer in our family. This is the conventional wisdom: Michael always wants to sail, Sally wants to sail sometimes, when it fits in her schedule, when it's sunny and warm.
Last week Sally went mad for windsurfing.
It started Thursday afternoon at Mecox. She and I and Eileen and Jaime were on the water (me 6.2, Sally 5.3, Eileen had only brought a 6.6 so she was lit, I don't know Jaime's gear) in sunny warm SWesterly. Sally working on her jibes (good entry speed but reverts to pivot jibe posture). Fun while the wind lasted. As we derigged, the first symptom appeared.
"Is it going to be windy tomorrow? Is it?"
Me: Maybe. It's thermal season.
"Let's come earlier tomorrow!"
Me: Let's see if it's going to blow first.
Friday morning I don't tell Sally the forecast fast enough, so she downloads the iWindsurf app (useless…bookmark the forecast page instead). The forecast looks iffy for the afternoon, but Sally wants to go. We go. 6.2 again (me on the 99 Skate) Sally on the 5.3. More good times. Sally chats up a kiter who tells her it was windier earlier. I don't believe this but it doesn't matter. We have to come earlier tomorrow!
At home, Sally instagrams a picture of her board on the beach. We look at the callouses on her hand, which are simultaneously bad (and my fault) and are getting her stoked for more windsurfing.
Saturday morning: "Show me the forecast (she likes the iWindsurf color bars)!" I tell her it's not going to happen. And it doesn't, but every time a tree moves she says we should go to Mecox. On Sunday she calls me from her exercise class "is it windy?"
Driving back to the city Sunday afternoon we pass a flag that's fluttering. Sally is in anguish. I tell her I've heard from the guys…it's not planable…but she remains stressed. She's missing wind.
My wife is a windsurfing addict.
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